I used to breath among the demons and the dreams
by BlondiexBlack
Summary: AU: Harry and Draco are normal Muggles, except Harry is depressive. And sometimes, psychological battles are harder to fight.


It's not like I didn't know about it. I knew. I had always known. I had discovered it, some years ago, an accident. I had smashed and crushed everything around me. And as the pain only grew bigger and bigger, I couldn't help but hate and hurt myself. Scratching my skin, insulting myself, hating my reflection. Those had been my demons. Wanting to remove my eyeballs, wanting to peel my own body off. I hated everything I was. I thought I was stupid for loving, for caring, for dreaming, for hoping. **Who could love a boy like me after all ?** I'm a stupid orphan, too short, I can't dress or look properly, I'm just a mess. I can't brush my hair, I don't see anything without my glasses, my green eyes throw lightings at me.  
>But right now, right now, I don't even know anymore. <strong>Was it a dream ? Was it something real ?<strong> It's been two months. Two months I met someone who changed my life, someone who led me to faith. Happiness. He is sweet. He's a cunt at first, but the way he looks at people is just a mask. He is everything I am not. Everything I won't ever be. He is my model. And I am deeply in love. But it's not like I could fight my demons. I am sick. This is a sickness. A cyclic sickness I can't escape. I need it to feel alive. Hurting myself, screaming, hysteric trance. I need all this. And when I do, I can't think about anything else. I hear him say my name. _"Harry..."_ I see his pale and delicate lips and face, his blond hair, big grey eyes. I see his black jeans and green shirt. He always buttons the sleeves, as if being serious was covering him. It doesn't. I know him. I saw him. In my dreams, every days at school. I know him. I know who he is. And I can't stop hurting me. Because he is my weakness. And I can't be strong for him. I come everyday with new scars. I come everyday with tears streaming down my face. And I see how hurt he is. He won't ever be proud of me. It doesn't stop him from loving me, of course, but it stops me. Everything is a reason to come back to self-harm. Because my demons have a name. Not fitting, bullying, doubting, lacking self confidence. Self-harm. When you realize your demons, you're stronger, they say. I only feel more guilty for not being able to resist. And I will do it again.  
>I'm holding the match. I won't light it up right now, I'll just look at some flames. I repeat his name, as if I was praying. But he won't ever come. Because today, I accepted my fate. I won't ever be happy, and I don't want him to sink with me. I just said something like <em>"We are over, period."<em>  
>It starts with the burns. It always starts with the burns. Then the cuts. Then the scratches.<br>And I can't stop crying or screaming.  
>I cry hysterically, uncontrollably. I cry and scream my heart out. I lie to myself. I think it'll make me feel better. I shout his name. I repeat it again and again. <em>"Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco..."<em> This is a never-ending lament. I am sick, I discovered it months ago. I hide my beast inside, I conceal it. I tell myself I'll get better. I won't ever get better. I am sick. And this is me healing.  
>My vision starts getting fuzzy, blurry. I hear screams. Steps. I feel dizzy. I see a shadow approaching. I want to throw up. <strong>Who is it ?<strong> I want to be alone. He screams. It's him. I try to whisper his name, but I can't speak. I am just a powerless boy. Powerless mind, powerless body, powerless soul. I am useless. But here he is. He runs towards me. _"Harry !"_ I feel his arms around me. He gets his phone out of his pocket. He spent hours on this phone with me. When I was calling him after each breakdown, no matter the hour, no matter my state. He tries to type the number, but his hands are shaking. If I didn't know him, I would thought he was crying. But he is not. Draco never cries, oh no. Cold heart for everyone, he can't afford to cry. He finally hangs up. I don't know if this call lasted seconds or hours. He tries to hold me. I hear the drum of his heartbeat, racing faster and faster. A warm, living heartbeat. I feel a drop falling on my head. **Or is it a hundred ?** He is crying. He is looking me in the eyes, or so I think.  
><em>"Don't you dare leaving me here. Because we are fighting together Potter, and I am nothing without you. Please, I'm begging you, don't let me be this coward, this bastard again. Help me be who I am when I'm with you. Please !"<em>  
>I can't say anything. Every breath is as sharp as a knife. I feel the air slicing my lungs.<br>_"I... I wish you a good life... I... I wish you be happy. I love you."_  
>The rivers falling from his eyes are flooding. My hair are wet. His body is almost convulsing. <strong>Or is it mine ?<strong> I remember the first time we met. He was... No, I remember the time I discovered who he was. I had came back with scars, fresh cuts, and I looked miserable. Everyone was busy. But when I went to the men's room at the break, he followed me. He pushed me against a wall, looked me in the eye, and grabbed my wrist. It hurt like hell. I was moaning and gritting my teeth. And then, unexpectedly, he kissed me. It wasn't pleasant. It was horribly violent. And he said _"Life is not a gift. It is an open wound. It is not tender. Not nice. But you'll ask for it. You'll learn to like it. You'll realise you're worth it. Not only for you, but for other people. People who care for you. And appreciate you. You'll learn it Potter. Quickly or not, by fair means or foul. And I am gonna help you. From now on."_  
>This was the most terrible kiss we shared. But it will stay the most beautiful, the most meaningful one.<br>He holds me tighter. At least I guess. He shouts. He asks for help. He talks to me.  
>And I slowly sink into the darkness. Love can not save you. Love can not heal you. Love can not bring you back to life. Love is an illusion. But at least, this illusion made me happy. And in the last minutes of my life, nothing mattered more than the fact I was loved.<br>_"I love you Harry. I always had, and will always will."_


End file.
